


The Games We Play

by hesonlytiny



Series: Longing [1]
Category: MY FIRST STORY (Band), ONE OK ROCK, coldrain (Japan Band)
Genre: (sorry), Angst, Indication of Depression, M/M, Sibling Incest, omfg the angst, pls only read if u can stomach that, sibling sex (again sorry)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26142091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesonlytiny/pseuds/hesonlytiny
Summary: It was a game, not war, Hiroki had to remind himself once again. But why, then, did it sting so bad when he thought about this whole situation? When had all this started, anyway? He just knew that he would choose his brother over anyone, always.
Relationships: Masato (coldrain)/Moriuchi Hiroki, Morita Takahiro/Moriuchi Hiroki
Series: Longing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932349
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The Games We Play

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [我们的游戏](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28733253) by [natsusora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsusora/pseuds/natsusora)



> I had to think a bit about if I should publish it here for obvious reasons (^^'). I'll just go on and give a 
> 
> BIG DISCLAIMER: I do not wish to harm any of those guys and I do not think that this fanfic represents real life, it's mere fiction, but I know that it's a sensitive topic for some people. So please, if you're not into this (or can't stomach it for whatever reason, all are valid), I suggest not to read it.
> 
> But if you do want to, I wish you all fun :) (...as much fun as you can have with this dark topic at least lol)

It had become second nature to him, calling his brother by his given name rather than ‘ani’ or any other indicator that they were related. Hiroki tried, however, not to slip up in public or when he finally got to see his family once in a blue moon. It gave him a strange sort of relief; an excuse if you so will. It made calling him both so much more intimate and gave him at the same time a sense of distance.

He loved him so much, but the longer this went on, the more desperate he became wanting to erase the fact that he was longing for him so desperately. For his own brother.

Sometimes he loathed his life, loathed being trapped in this nightmarish hell of a situation because there was objectively not a single way out of this. No matter how hard he’d tried, just one look from Takahiro was enough to make him turn around again. It was not good for him, not at all, and Taka _knew_. But he also knew that Hiroki smiled that vibrant smile whenever he’d had attention to spare and he would care for him and make him laugh and make him moan – as far as it was convenient for him, anyway.

Sometimes Hiroki wished that one day all of this wasn’t enough anymore. So that he could finally break away. But Taka knew how to give him just the right amount of attention Hiroki needed to stick around. Because his brother’s charming smiles and secretly whispered teasing words and lascivious looks and demanding touches were never _quite enough_ , but just enough to make him come back for more. Always reaching, always yearning for this one day he’d finally feel _enough_.

But in the end, he always left.

They were sitting in a private dining room in some fancy izakaya somewhere in downtown Tokyo; it was the first time ever he’d been invited to any of their shenanigans. For a second there he’d wondered if any of his friends and colleagues would find it strange for him to join them, seeing that he’d never done it before and didn’t know any of them all too well. But Taka had organised this large get together and so he figured that he should stop worrying. And concentrate on not attracting too much attention. But it was not easy when Taka was trying to eat you alive with his daring glances.

Hiroki was sitting at the end of the long table, and even though Taka wasn’t sitting directly in front of him, his brother still managed to turn his head every so often to inspect what he was doing. Hiroki gulped, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Why had he ever agreed to this?

“You’ve been awfully quiet the whole night, you don’t really think you’re fitting in, do you?”

When Hiroki glanced up, he noticed Masato in front of him. Having been the centre of attention more often than not, the older man had been almost equally reserved the whole night through, so much so that Hiroki hadn’t really been fully aware that they were sitting so close to each other. His voice was low, soft, and with a challenging nod, he suggested Hiro to drink the sake he’d just sneakily filled into his cup. Biting his lip, Hiro couldn’t suppress a delicate smile at that.

“It feels a bit odd, but I’m warming up to it, even if it doesn’t seem like it,” Hiroki heard himself saying, feeling the liquid run pleasantly stinging down his throat. He knew he shouldn’t drink so much; he not only wanted to stay in control of himself this evening, for obvious reasons, but he also knew that alcohol was one of his depression triggers alright. A few cups more of those and he’d excuse himself to go cry in some corner. He swallowed hard and tried to shake off those uninvited dark thoughts.

It didn’t help that Taka was still staring at him; intently trying to make out what Masato and he were talking about, but he was sitting too far away to listen in on anything. Hiroki sighed as he played with his sake cup and forced himself to look away. It just hurt, it hurt like hell. Was he just here so that Taka could make him jealous? Play with him? Until he was just left a nervous wreck that he could then slowly build up again; kiss by kiss, thrust by thrust? The dangerous thing was: he would take all of this over anything else in a fucking heartbeat.

Oh God, the alcohol was already getting to him.

“You’re not very keen on downing another, then?”

Masato reached for his sake cup across the table, the one Hiroki still held in his hands, and seemed to brush over his fingers ever so lightly, as if accidentally, but a look into the older man’s eyes told Hiroki all that he needed to know. His eyes were fixed on him, but his hands were already gone in the blink of an eye. Hiro busied himself looking around, but no one seemed to have noticed their strangely intimate encounter. Not even Taka, who was laughing cheerily at something Mah must have said.

Masato was beautiful alright, Hiroki noted; expressive and kind eyes, nicely sculptured lips. He looked wild with his American genes mixed in, like someone who knew exactly what he was doing. His fingertips were itching at the thought of being fucked by Masato instead of Taka for a change. He wondered how much faster he’d go, how less careful he’d be, if he’d be able to finally fuck all this misery and doubt and pain out of him.

A breath caught in his throat. The ultimate _payback_? But for what? He just wanted Taka to love him, nothing more, he needed nothing more. It was all his mind was ever occupied with, all day long.

This aching hole inside his chest that Taka would never be able to close.

“Go on then, pour me another.”

And Masato did so. When the older man slid it towards him, Hiroki made a point of letting his own fingers linger on Masato’s for a few seconds too long before taking the cup from him. They were holding each other’s gazes intently, he could feel the tension build up between them and all his hairs at the back of his neck stood up on end – it took him so much willpower not to turn his head to see if Taka was looking.

Just when he took a first sip, he saw the ‘you’ve got a message’-light of his phone on the table flash up. He almost didn’t need to ask himself who it was from, but it managed to turn his stomach upside down anyway when he opened it.

« _TAKA_ : Seems like you’re finally enjoying yourself? »

He shot him a short glance before answering reluctantly.

« _HIRO_ : Are you jealous? »

« _TAKA_ : I don’t need to be. When we’re home, I’m going to fuck that cheekiness out of you. »

Hiroki only noticed that he’d been clenching his fist subconsciously when he decided to down his sake altogether. They’d been playing this game for so long; he was so _exhausted_. And yet he still came back, every time. His brother wasn’t unfair or as selfish as his texts might suggest, it was all a farce. Hiro liked it, too. It did turn him on at times, being treated like that by his brother and being fucked by him mercilessly. But sometimes he wondered if it was really _him_ liking it, or just him thinking he ought to like it.

Masato in front of him stared at Hiroki sort of dumbfounded, then he smiled, a bit dirty really, and downed his sake, too. The warmth was creeping into the tip of his ears and his cheeks, his fingertips were tingling; he was drumming a soft melody on the wooden table to busy himself, but the alcohol was faster.

When had this all started, anyway? He barely remembered the first time he’d looked into Takahiro’s face and thought ‘I want him to kiss me.’ And yet it had happened so naturally, so very organically that their first kiss hadn’t even surprised him when it had happened. And when he’d first fucked away his never subsiding want for love and being cared for it had been like a revelation.

“Fancy going outside for a bit?”

“Fuck, yes.”

They’d been standing out in the cold for a few minutes already; Masato all the while sucking on his cigarette and shooting him interested glances. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew when someone was trying to flirt with him. It was the way Masato leaned in when he talked, scooting closer with every word that rolled lazily off his tongue. And while Hiroki felt himself drawn in, reciprocating the other’s offer and want, there was still something in the back of his head that told him off.

“You know, it wouldn’t be too obvious if we’d sneak off together.”

“Ani would notice,” Hiroki explained in a tone that pissed him off himself; this word felt foreign and bitter on his tongue. It made all this more real.

Masato then put out his cigarette and turned around to lean on the fence that separated them and the busy street. Maybe this was his way out, after all, maybe he was just the thing he needed.

“But you _are_ interested?” He said so without looking at him.

“I might be.”

The older man then took out his phone to save his contact information, promising to message him soon. Hiroki gulped at the thought and felt his head become weirdly blurry and clouded. Masato was the first man after Taka that had shown interest in him. Sleeping with another guy, the mere concept of it, was currently trying to sabotage his whole world of thought.

Just as he was about to add something, just as he’d decided to scoot closer himself, to ever so lightly touch him, he heard the door of the _izakaya_ open and close.

“We’re going home, pack your things.”

They were at it now for at least half an hour. Hiroki wasn’t sure anymore where he stopped and his brother began. The mattress on his brother’s bed was too hard, like always, and when Taka managed to trap both his arms overhead, thrusting even deeper into him, a needy whimper left Hiro’s trembling lips.

“I saw how you looked at him.” Taka’s voice was hoarse with arousal and he was breathing these words so close to his lips that Hiroki caught them desperately with his own in trying not to suffocate. “I don’t want you to look at him this way ever again, you hear me?”

One of his hands was pressing his thigh so close to the mattress that it almost hurt, but the sensation of Taka’s hard cock sliding in and out of him, faster and faster, made him not really care. He’d bruise for sure, he bruised so easily. And every time Taka would notice another one of his creations, he’d apologise, but with one of his whimsical smiles. He’d always let his brother mark him, voluntarily, and Taka enjoyed it. It had been a while since he’d last been so rough with him, Hiroki noted with another weak moan on his lips, last time he’d been too friendly with Toru. But it was what he’d needed tonight. He just wanted to stop feeling everything that was not Taka, and this would do nicely, in the short run at least.

“I won’t. I promise,” Hiroki yelped, right at the moment Taka pressed in especially deep. He coughed. _Fuck_. His own cock twitched at the unpleasant but pleasant sensation in response, he hadn’t even had time to touch himself _once_ , Taka wouldn’t allow him right now, anyway. “I promise.”

“You’re mine,” he said intently, this time really looking into his eyes. They were pitch black and his hair had grown a tad too long over the last couple of weeks and was falling into his face. For a second, Hiroki stopped feeling anything altogether, and only started to breathe again when Taka managed to hit his prostate. Hot and cold shivers ran down his spine then and suddenly his eyes were closed in blissful agony. This couldn’t go on for much longer, he knew. “You look so _beautiful_ , there’s no way I’d let him see you like this,” Taka whispered and pressed their soft lips together.

But his thrusts were coming even faster by then, he was not holding himself back, but Hiroki loved every second. Tomorrow he’d hate himself for it. But then he could finally wiggle his arms free from his brother’s grip to loop them around his upper body. Hands clutching at every fibre of skin and muscle and rough edges he could grab onto; pulling him closer, wrapping his trembling legs around his hips. Nudging him forward, shoving him deeper. He gasped. Desperately, he tried to hold onto that beautiful golden skin, speckled with black ink all over; scratching so hard he feared he could make him bleed. But Taka only found a way to fuck him even harder; not really caring if he broke through his skin.

He wanted him closer, so close. But no matter how often he would push and pull and hold onto him so very hopelessly, it was never enough. And when Taka came deep inside of him, he kissed him again on the mouth, longingly and full of passion. That feeling that you know should be reserved for your ‘one and only,’ the person that meant the most to you. Hiroki wasn’t sure if he could ever be _that one_ for his brother. And he hated the fact that he just couldn’t let go of this last hope.

“Are you alright?”

“When am I ever not?”

“I worry about you, you know,” Taka said softly and when Hiroki looked into his eyes, there was one second in which he was convinced he could believe him. His brother had one arm swung around his shoulders as they lay in bed together afterwards; spent and not saying all the things that he wished they could be saying. “Show me one of your smiles.”

Takahiro brushed over his cheeks softly with his thumb and started to smile too, as if he was saying ‘look, it’s not that hard,’ but Hiroki’s own smile felt like a crooked farce, like an imposter on his very own features. Suddenly he was sensing that tears were starting to bubble up to the surface, his eyes felt flaming hot, but he just managed to keep them at bay. He wouldn’t start crying in front of him, not now. Sex just made him so annoyingly emotional. He sighed to cover up his feelings.

It almost startled him when Takahiro decided to lean over him in order to place a loving kiss on his lips. Hiroki just wanted to grab the back of his neck to pull him closer again, to keep him right there, but he didn’t. He’d probably never do any of this. And the thought of it hurt like a stabbing wound to his chest. He’d never escape this; it was like a drug. And every God damn look, every fucking smile, every forsaken kiss Taka would _grant_ him – all these things would only serve to draw him in more. There was just no escape.

They were playing a game alright, but sometimes Hiroki felt more like the pawn in this one.


End file.
